A Little Bit of Love and a Dash of Wine
by Dysdaimon
Summary: An expansion upon the first few notable scenes between Fenris and Hawke in Act 3 of DAII. Plenty of character-specific spoilers. NSFW. F!Hawke x Friendship!Fenris; quick one-shot with impersonal narration; your mileage may vary.


**Author's note (with spoilers): _NSFW._** I had already finished DAII twice by the time I finally had to occasion to write down some F!Hawke x Friendship!Fenris scenes. This is one scene I particularly liked in the game and I was disappointed when Bioware did not expand on it. I decided to continue a little past where they left off, following the scene in Act 3 after Danarius's death. I also skimmed through the scene's conversation simply because I wanted to expand and not retell; readers who prefer to immerse themselves all over again in the scene will have to pardon my lack of verbatim stenography.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters, places, or wine brands in this story. Everything came from Bioware.

Any and all criticism are welcome. I look forward to improving myself for the reader's sake.

* * *

"Fenris," Hawke whispered into his chest as she lay nestled in the crook of his arm.

"Yes?" his voice, intense and rough—barely louder than her whisper—sent shivers down her spine. Fenris had spoken to her more than anyone else over the past few years she had known him. He had been reluctant to speak with anyone at first, preferring to weigh his words before letting them slip from his tongue, but it had been six years since then, and three since he had left her.

Hawke would never know—nor cared to—if he would have apologized to her at all were it not for the sudden shock of his sister's betrayal. Since their first night together three years ago, Fenris had been avoiding her gaze, slighting past all her subtle comments about love and trust, and keeping himself holed up in his mansion in Hightown whenever she was not asking him to help with one assignment or other. She had almost given up hope after three years of wishing and wanting to no avail.

_There was a flickering light in one of the mansion's upper windows that danced fitfully with the playful night breeze. Every so often, when the light splashed onto the edges of the windows, she could see the silhouette of a figure sitting almost motionlessly between the light and the window. She wanted to call out to him, to tell him what she felt for him once more, before she lost her grasp on that fleeting hope for their love. The figure seemed to sink back in his chair, as if reading her thoughts and responding to them, running his hand through his hair in a tired gesture. _

_Hawke looked away; it was better not to disturb Fenris when he seemed so melancholic, especially since her presence would only add discomfort where all she wanted was his love. She turned away from the mansion's door, hefting the bottle of Agreggio Pavali back under her arm as she strode back the way she came. Why did she even bring that bottle? Perhaps it was because that was the only fine wine she ever saw Fenris drink, not counting the drivel served in the Hanged Man. Even he must have run out of wine; the last bottle of Danarius's stockpile was long gone and Hawke could not see him as the type to purchase more even if he wanted it. By now she had already reached the Hightown marketplace, but a sudden flash of inspiration hit her. She could just leave the bottle there with a note for him. That way, he would know she still cared and would not have to interact with her at the same time. Hawke set a brisk pace back towards Fenris's mansion, grateful she had chosen to do this at night after the merchants had packed up their stalls. It would simply look ridiculous for the Champion of Kirkwall to be running back and forth for no apparent reason with a wine bottle tucked under her armpit. As she rounded the corner and headed towards the steps leading to the estates, she saw a figure—instantly recognizable from the uniform of the guard—walk purposefully in the direction of Fenris's mansion. A closer look revealed the figure to be Aveline and Hawke watched her knock twice on the door, tap her foot impatiently, and open it without hesitation. He kept his door unlocked? That was news. Then again, there was little left to steal in that run-down mansion. Hawke had always knocked and allowed Fenris to open the door. She had never felt enough of a fool to try and invade his house without good cause. _

_She silently followed Aveline, who walked at a brisk pace to the upper rooms, heading, no doubt, to Fenris's room. Though the thought was absurd and lasted only a second, Hawke was threatened by Aveline's presence in the home of her lover, or former lover, so late at night. Once Aveline had gone into Fenris's room and voices began to argue back and forth, Hawke walked calmly towards the room, as if visits in the dead of night were things she did often. She entered to hear an angry Fenris question the veracity of something Aveline had said. It did not take Hawke long to realize the conversation was about Fenris's supposed sister, Varania. Aveline was curt and professional, as she always was whenever her mental shields were up, and she left the room after Hawke entered, giving Hawke a look as she passed by, a look that said, "Either screw him and calm him down or talk him into submission. Now, Hawke."_

_Fenris looked up from where he had been staring holes into the table. It was then he told Hawke of his letters to his sister over the years and her visit to Kirkwall, voicing his suspicions of a trap and the possible appearance of Danarius. Hawke, still trying to process everything that had happened, simply nodded and voiced her usual agreement to any request her friends made of her; she had long ago stopped caring how dangerous the situations were. As long as her friends needed her, she would help and Maker help anything that interfered when Fenris specifically asks for help. _

_She had been surprised by Varania's betrayal of her brother, even more surprised to find out that Fenris had wanted the lyrium markings at one point. Fenris stood still as his sister ran out of the Hanged Man and as much as she wanted to hold him and kiss him and tell him she was there for him, she did not dare. When he claimed to be utterly alone, however, she could not hold her silence._

"_I'm here, Fenris," she said instinctively, without thinking. Almost immediately, she wanted to take it back. If she upset Fenris even more… but he had not become angry with her, had not accused her of being presumptuous; no, he had simply placed a hand on her cheek and smiled sadly before turning away again. Magic, magic, all of it was terrible to him, even more so than ever before. She had tried to follow him as he left the tavern, but had given up at Varric's suggestion. If Fenris wanted to be alone, he should be left alone. _

_No, he should not be alone. The Void take that, she did not want him to be alone, not after what she dared to claim in the Hanged Man. She had made a mad dash for his mansion, upsetting several upper-class citizens in the process. He was in a pensive state when she burst in, the floor this time suffering from his intense glare. Fenris looked up at her and something flashed in his eyes before he began to talk, of Danarius, of his uncertainty of the future, of his hatred for magic, and, finally, of his true feelings for her. As Hawke listened, she could only wonder at his life, at the harshness that he had been forced to endure and at the level of trust he placed in her now, to confide his feelings in her. She would tell him now, Maker help her, she would tell him. And she did. _

_He responded immediately, affirmatively, as if the exact same thoughts had been on his mind for as long as they had been on hers. He apologized for what had happened three years ago, asking her forgiveness for a crime he had never committed in her eyes. She understood, she always had. The kiss they shared was gentle and passionate as Fenris gently guided her towards the bed in the corner of the room. He had not slept in that bed before; the thought of Danarius laying there had put him off, but now there was Hawke and Danarius was dead. That bed was just a bed. _

_Fenris gently pushed her down onto the bed and removed first his gauntlets and chest plate, followed by his belt and the tough hide that covered his ankles and wrapped around his feet. The serrated, spiked pauldrons and leg guards came off next as he unclasped the buttons on his tunic. He shrugged off the top and leaned over Hawke, whose armor consisted mainly of supple leather designed for quick, agile strikes, not heavy fighting. Quite a few undone laces and belts later and she was wearing only her smallclothes, arms wrapped around his shoulders and breathing softly next to his ear. Briefly, he realized he had forgotten to lock the door, mentally cursing his luck now and threatening Fortune not to send anyone to his house. _

_Hawke still smelled of blood from the fight against Danarius earlier that day, but beneath the iron-scented odor of blood was the gentle smell of grass and wood, perhaps a permanent imprint of Lothering, forever lost to her now. As he moved to take off her undergarments, she tugged at his tight leggings, gently at first, but pulling more insistently until he finally kicked them and her undergarments aside. She took in his lithe body, toned and tanned from years of battle, and scarred with lyrium from his years of servitude. The lyrium markings ran across his chest and down his stomach, curving and branching on his legs and arms. Hawke placed a hand on his face, bringing it closer to hers and gently nipped at his lower lip. His hands stopped caressing her body and he held her face and kissed her again, deeper, harder, nudging her lips open with his tongue until she could taste the wine he had recently drunk, sometime between getting to his house and her interruption of his thoughts. Agreggio Pavali. …Where was that bottle she had planned to give him earlier? Out of the corner of her eye, Hawke noticed it on the table where she had forgotten it earlier in her eagerness to help him. It was been opened and her quick note lay open next to it. Ah, so he had already known how she felt about him even before she told him; that explained why he could so easily answer her. _

_He was still kissing her as he entered her, and she would not let him stop, following his mouth even as he sat up to push into her. He gently laid her down and ran the backs of his fingers across her cheek, his other hand cupping her breast and teasing her into a state of agitation. She moaned softly, her breathless gasps as he thrust into her igniting his desires until he wanted nothing more than to hear her cry out his name in ecstasy. He lifted her up against him, letting her wants propel her body into a faster, frantic rhythm as she rode and bucked above him, her arms tight around him and her breasts pressed against his chest. She panted and whimpered as he gently bit and licked at her pert nipples, teasing one with his fingers and the other with his tongue. _

"_Fenris!" she called out as she rode out the climax in shudders and ecstatic moans while he gasped beneath her as he felt his own release near. She fell back and panted as Fenris continued , his pace quickening until she felt his shudder and his gasping moan and a soft whisper of "Marian" as the wet warmth between her legs trickled onto her inner thighs and finally onto the mattress. He collapsed beside her, panting heavily as she tangled her legs with his and nestled her body into his embrace. He pulled her even closer and bit the edge of her ear softly, kissing a trail down her neck and across her collarbone. She sighed in contentment and allowed him to finish before kissing him again, tongue and all, as her thumb and forefinger gently rubbed the tips of his ears. He smiled at her and kissed the top of her forehead as she drifted off to a peaceful night's rest in his arms. _

_The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows and woke her. Hawke opened her eyes to meet Fenris's vivid green eyes gazing silently at her. She smiled at him and curled her body up, burying her face in his chest even as he laughed quietly._

"_Fenris," she had whispered into his chest._

"_Yes?" he had answered._

"I love you."

"I know, I always knew, I think. Now I can truly love you as you deserve, Marian."

"I don't care about what I deserve, Fenris, I just want you, only you, all of you. That's all."

"Then you will have me forever, I swear it. Maker help any fool who gets between you and me now."

"…Did you like the wine?"

"I liked your note more."

"To be honest, I didn't really know what to say at the time… It was just something I thought to do on impulse."

"The message was clear enough: 'This bottle is for us.'"

"…Fenris?"

"Marian?"

"I thought I heard—"

"_Great ancestors' beards, Hawke! Tell your damn broody elf to lock the bloody door next time!"_

A mortified, incoherent Fenris and a laughing Hawke accompanied the sound of Varric's footsteps rushing out the door as he left a trail of playing cards in his wake.


End file.
